The True Darkness
by RoseyG30
Summary: This was inspired by thatfuckingshowaboutwerewolves on tumblr and her prompt was: A fic where stiles has multiple personality disorder but has convinced himself he's possessed so he's put in a mental hospital. This was most definitely not completely to the prompt but hope you like it anyways.


It's been three days since they last saw Stiles, and, fuck, if Scott wasn't worried, then he didn't know what he was. Stiles hadn't tried to murder him; that was not Stiles. It didn't make sense for Stiles to be possessed by the nogitsune: it thrived off of the powerful, and the fox had to pick between Scott, Allison, and Stiles, why would it have picked Stiles?

It did not make the slightest bit of sense.

"Scott, you have to stop worrying about Stiles and start worrying about everyone else." Chris Argent was prepared to do anything to take down the demon, and that definitely included killing Stiles if it came down to it.

"How are you not angry?" Kira yelled across the loft. The entire room was still; the silenced was suffocating everyone without any type of physical force necessary. Kira had asked the question no one else had that guts to, and Scott really wished she hadn't.

"I can't be angry with him: it's not him that's causing this."

"But what if it was?" everyone turned to see Derek standing at the entrance to his apartment, arms crossed and a sour expression that could only mean more trouble.

Scott stopped. His whole body just went on a certain pause; he couldn't breathe.

"I felt the energy around him, and it is dark, but not the kind that you would get from a nogitsune. Did you feel it?" Scott nodded, unable to form the proper words, "did you not feel how it kind of pushing you back instead of pulling you in?" Scott nodded once again and no one else knew what the two were talking about: they didn't need some wolfie-like powers to know that whatever almost killed Scott, wasn't Stiles.

"Nogitsunes are tricksters, they like to pull you in so that they can make sure the joke will always be on you, but Stiles's vibe was different, more than usual." Derek laid down a chart and it took Scott less than a second to figure out what was going on with Stiles, and this seemed like something worse than a demonically possessed spirit.

"Is this because of the dementia?" Derek only nodded and it sent Scott into a rage; a rage so powerful that he was in full alpha without even realizing it. This wasn't Stiles's fault, this wasn't anyone's fault.

"There are cases where you basically become a different person. It helps you deal with the paranoia, sleep deprivation, and illusions. It's a way to give Stiles a break, but, apparently, this second Stiles has a dark side." Scott was calming down and everyone was starting to get on the same page.

Everyone was quiet, thinking, until someone slammed the loft door open, and in ran Stiles, not just ran, but actually plopped onto the floor of the loft. Before anyone could react, Scott ran up to Stiles and, literally, sniffed him. All over Stiles and before anyone could say anything, Scott was hugging the living crap out of his best friend.

"It's you, it's actually you, isn't it?" Scott was mumbling into Stiles's neck and the boys had a conversation of their own through muffled words.

"I'm glad that Stiles smells like himself, but how can we be really sure?"

"Lydia, always nice to see you." Stiles said, having Scott help him up off the floor. Derek wouldn't trust Scott with Stiles, not again; however, just getting less than 10 feet from Stiles was enough for Derek to catch the sent that was most definitely Stiles.

"So, what's everyone been up to? The last thing I remember is that we were in the rain?" Stiles asked both Scott and Kira. Kira was close, she was really close to springing on Stiles right then and there. If Chris hadn't pushed her back, Stiles would have a black eye before he could connect his thoughts.

"Wait, you don't remember anything?" Scott asked. Stiles shake of the head, and Derek's, almost, dreadful look, prove to Scott what's been going on.

"Stiles, you know how we've been thinking that someone has been possessed?" Stiles nodded, catching the worried looks from the group.

"There's still that theory because Mrs. Yukimura has the Oni after someone, but we're pretty sure you're not even one to be questioned anymore." Scott tried to be as gentle as possible but Stiles was becoming confused, and Scott couldn't help but smell the anxiety radiating off of him.

"Stiles," Derek cut in, "you have to tell me, do you know if your mother had Dissociative Identity Disorder?"

"I don't, Derek, I, I don't know what that is." Stiles was in full blown panic mode and he couldn't think straight. The entire room was in a fog and he knew that if Scott wasn't holding up right now, he would have passed out onto the floor.

"Stiles, dude, you can't pass out!" Scott shook Stiles to try to get him up, but still, slowly, lowered himself with Stiles onto the floor.

"Scott, let him go." Derek came up behind Scott and started tugging on his shoulder, but Scott shrugged him off and still held onto Stiles.

"Scott, I said, let go." Derek forcefully shoved Scott from Stiles, and only when Scott wasn't so close was when he could feel it again, Stiles wasn't having a panic attack anymore, because that wasn't Stiles anymore.

"Oh, Derek, always gotta ruin the fun." Stiles got up and started to look around at the party that was gathered. The twins weren't there: someone had to watch over Isaac. Chris, Allison, Kira, Lydia, Derek, and Scott were in the room, and this was just going to be perfect for this new friend.

"Why are you out? What have you done to Stiles?" Derek, always the one to be direct.

"He's just kept away, safe, if you will. You see, ever since all this werewolf stuff started, he's been getting worse. I've been around for, let's say, I don't know, nine years. Ever since his mom died, really. You couldn't let a poor eight year old boy go through that kind of trauma by himself, but you can only imagine what that's done to me. I've lived through his trauma. Who got beat up by Gerard? Me. Thanks a lot for that, Allison. Your grandfather, great guy, really. Who lets Stiles rest and lies awake at night making sure he doesn't have bad nightmares? Yeah, me, again." So far 'Stiles' has been roaming throughout the room and giving everyone harsh glances when felt appropriate.

"You still haven't told us why you're out now." Lydia cut in.

"Well, you see, when you guys sacrificed yourselves to save your parents, that darkness gave me strength. I would only come out when Stiles needed me but now I can come out whenever I want, and let me tell you, life is a lot more fun when you get to cause trauma instead of live through it."

"What's your name?" Scott wouldn't call this thing Stiles: it wasn't his best friend and it never will be.

"Blake. It's Scottish." That evil smirk that Stiles sometimes on his face is what really scares Scott: how many times has he been in Blake's presence but what just unaware?

"I don't know what you think you're accomplishing, Blake, but things aren't going to magically work themselves out." Chris Argent spoke up, and if look could kill, Argent would be on the floor convulsing. Sti- no, Blake, had a look of pure murder on his face.

"You think I'm not going to go through with my plans? This isn't going to stop me."

"Yeah, well, this probably will." Ethan and Aiden came out of nowhere and, literally, hit a vase over Stiles's head, knocking him out.

"You could have been a bit gentler." Derek advised while gather Stiles together. The twins shrugged and the rest of the pack just watched on, confused, and out of sorts because Stiles wasn't possessed, it was worse than that.

Stiles woke up in a white, clean, and overly-bleached room. Last he remembered, he had passed out at Derek's loft. What the fuck even happened?

His eyes were closed and people were talking at the end of his bed.

"He's been out for a few days."

"Good."

"Not good."

"Why?"

"We need to make sure he wakes up. We can't just keep drugging him."

"Please, just help him."

"Why do I need help?" Stiles interjected. He had noticed Scott's, Melisa's, his dad's, and someone else's voice. He felt it was a good time to announce him waking up if any.

"You're awake!" Scott tackled Stiles and, if it wasn't for the IVs, Stiles would have kept Scott there for hours.

"Yes, I'm awake; can you please explain why I'm at the hospital? What happened at Derek's?" Scott gave Stiles a sad, tired, look. Stiles turned to his father and the sheriff had nothing to offer his own son.

"Hi, Stiles, I'm Doctor Laneon." The doctor introduced himself, "I've been looking at your case and I would like to discuss it with you. Do you want to do it some other time or is in front of your family alright?" Stiles could barely keep up with the doctor, so he just nodded and gave Scott a look of pure terror.

"We have your MRI results back and I'm sorry to say that they came back positive." It was like an iceberg smacked into his face: he got this cold feeling and he really couldn't breathe. He felt someone, probably Scott, grab his hand, because this doctor wasn't finished.

"As well, due to what we've recently heard, we're considering whether you have Dissociative Identity Disorder."

"I don't, I don't understand." Stiles started stammering and things like this didn't happen this quickly; however, this was Beacon Hills, home of the werewolves and apparently kid with more than one personality.

"How did you guys find this out?" Stiles looked to his father, but he shook his head. To Melisa and it was another no. Scott was beside him, holding his hand, and not being able to keep his foot still.

"Scott, what happened?"

"Derek figured it out. He could basically smell it on you, and you transitioned right in front of us." Stiles had to respect Scott, always had, but right now, Scott was staring at him, dead in the eye, and letting him know exactly what's going on with him.

"Stiles," the doctor cut in, "this isn't incurable. This will take work, a lot of it, but you need to want it in order for this to work." Stiles nodded. His whole life, he thought he was just Stiles, and now he finds out he's someone else? So not fucking cool.

"Go through with the treatment." Stiles never wanted to be a werewolf, or a witch, or a hunter, or anything that wasn't him. If he had some weirdo, psycho, other part of him inside him, he wanted him out.

"Stiles, you need to realize that this part of you is what holds your trauma as Scott describes it." Stiles turned to Scott to see his friend nodding.

"This, Blake character, he holds your mother's death and other highly traumatic experiences, locked awake for only him to remember so you don't have to." The doctor was explaining things, and he kept going, but really, Stiles didn't care: he had dealt with so much shit in his life that being able to remember his mistakes and what they costed him shouldn't be that big of an issue.

"I still remember that. Every night I think about it before I go to bad, actually." At this, looked at his father. His father had one of the most heart breaking looks on his face, but he had to keep going, "I remember hearing her line die as her brain finally stopped telling her heart to beat, I remember crying and running out of the room, running into Scott's mom and screaming from the top of my lungs that my mom was in trouble, I remember everything, and whoever the fuck this 'Blake' guy is, I want him the fuck out of me because he isn't doing his job, but only hurting the people I care about." If Scott hadn't known better, he would have assumed that this was Blake talking, but he knew Stiles when he got like this, and Scott was happy to see it.

"Then, I'll leave you to regain your strength and we will be moving you to a better facility where they're trained to deal with these kinds of things. I'm going to speak to you father about plans and you can have more visitors." Stiles nodded, and his dad and the doctor left his room.

Stiles let out a sigh and said, "My god, like I really need to have more than one personality; I'm weird as it is, can you just imagine, me plus a sociopathic one. This explains a lot though and let me tell you, I've thought of this. I had no proof, but I actually thought that I might have MPD. I would see a documentary on line while searching and stories of how you would just pass out and not remember certain things, which happens. It didn't happen often but enough for me to be concerned.

"You know, I couldn't tell my dad. He had way too much on his plate already. The last thing he needed was an even more fucked up kid that couldn't sit still, but he still got him! I don't know what's going to happen to me, but you have you to promise me, Scott, promise me that you won't let Isaac where scarves in weather over sixty degrees." Scott snorted, that goof, and the two talked for a while.

Scott and Stiles talked, not just for a while, but for hours, about everything. All the trauma that Stiles could remember, all the ways that Scott would help Stiles, and all the ways that Stiles was scared to go to an asylum.

"Scott, I'm too sarcastic for my own good, I will get stabbed."

Derek, the twins, Lydia, Allison, Kira, they all came and visited.

"How do you guys even all believe this?" That was Stiles's number one question really. How the hell was this entire group so calm about Stiles not just being Stiles all the time.

"Stiles, we're all best friends with, or turn into, a werewolf. I'm not sure why we would question you having a mental illness." Allison answered.

"I'm just glad you're not possessed: I would have been murdered by Scott if it came down to me killing you." Derek said, joking, of course, but Stiles knew that if things came down to it, Derek would definitely not have killed him. Derek, Stile could feel, grew to love everyone in his new pack, and it was touching, really.

His father came in about four hours later with one of the biggest smiles on his face that Stiles had ever seen.

"Why are you so happy?" The whole crew had cleared out about half an hour ago; Stiles eve convinced Scott to go home and rest.

"Well, what if I told you that you didn't need to go to a mental asylum, and you could just take medication at home, keep a journal, and have weekly therapy sessions?!" His father was ecstatic and Stiles was so excited he could barely function at that point.

"I think that this 'Blake' guys is going to be a goner really soon." And his dad hugged him. Stiles couldn't remember a lot of what's been happening these past few weeks, but he knew that he would get better with the help of his family.

**A/N:**

**I had a shit ton of fun writing Blake. Fuck, I might have a problem. **

**Anyways, this wasn't exactly the prompt, but I wanted this to be a one-shot and not a prolonged WIP that I would forget about and I didn't want to be up all night doing it either. **

**So, thank you to thatfuckingshowaboutwerewolves on tumblr! Had a lot of fun writing it and hopefully you would enjoy reading it. **


End file.
